Showing posts with label Contemplating Navels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Contemplating Navels. Show all posts

Sunday, March 22, 2026

A Seinfeld Post


It was music and a daily suggestion greeting me on my computer the other day that broke the Facebook silence I have been enjoying most of this month. A Bobby McFerrin pop hit from way back in someone's day and now lost in the current lexicon of music that sold out to the Man; well, it popped up somehow from somewhere, maybe on the TV,  the radio or just came to mind. 

Hmm.......

If truth be told or not, I am feeling a stream of consciousness day coming into view. Go with the flow, no matter where it came from or where it is set to go. Just latch on with a firm grip and enjoy the fucking ride; Or not; or maybe, do whatever blows my dress up. For you see, I have nothing better to do than ignore that bothersome and nagging list of honey do, honey don't duties that exist on some honey's list I never read, met nor wanted to. 

It all depends on the type of day I want, a productive one or an introspective deep dive into the swamp of mindless goo that swirls in and out with the tide in my mind....... Whew! 

Not making sense is harder than it looks. The hard earned lessons of the many grammar nazis in my past, make it difficult for me to write wild like I used to. I have to think about it, not just feel it; all because I now anguish over composition dos and don'ts more than seems sane.; or fun for that matter. ....... 

Fun. ..... What is fun? A cover all word that covers participating in anything we enjoy doing; whether it be toil ending productivily or just ending with grins. Fun is what we make of it, do to it, do with it. If it brings Joy, do it as much as possible, even if that Joy in the end, makes us sad.

Sadness can rock too. Sadness can purge the stockpile of petty concerns that haunt us everyday. Or it can make them worse. It seems we need both, sadness and joy. Well, it does appear we can't have one without a regular dose of the other. The trick I guess is to look for one and accept the other. They both helped make us what we have become. ..........

What we have become? A matter of perception I imagine. I have only my own view of what I have become, by mindless reflection of what I have done, not done, thought about getting done, thought about not getting done, and what I vowed I would never get done and to date still have yet to get done. What the "collective we" have become is what we always become; a loose consortium of good actors, bad actors; actors who help others and actors who exploit others. Something tells me no matter what system of disorganization we conjour up, those realities will always hold true. They are embedded in our cultural DNA, cast in stone by eras and ages of treating each other like shit.

Which makes me wonder, just how the Hell did we make it this far? The future seems sketchy at best given how comfortabe humanity seems living on all these precipices and lines we should never cross. And because we can't help ourselves, we always settle where the flow leaves us. Somehow we come out of the self inflicted madness smelling like roses. .............

After protracted and tortuous times being our own worst enemies, I expect we will again come out into the daylight and there will be no roses to smell. Odds seem to get shorter, the longer they are in play.

It might be a good idea to start paying attention to what we are doing to ourselves.

< ~ >

I wrote this post in one big breath; no paragraphing, no spell checking ( mine is broken anyway), no thought given to any theme of any kind. Yeah, it was a big rambling chunk of words, that once I took that breath and re-read my jibberish, I couldn't stand it. I could feel the long dead grammar nazis from my past hanging over my shoulder, breathing hot and sweaty condemnations in both ears about the Hell I would endure in Grammier Hell, as I would be tasked to diagram every sentence in the US Constitution. ...... Over n over. ( It was the History nuts who threw in the clause about the Constitution. )

I decided I had to clean it up some; tossed in some paragraphs; tossed in some minimal spell checking, and shifted around some commas and periods; came up with the catchy title, "A Seinfeld Post" and voila! I was finally done.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ....................................

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Hang in............. I have abruptly been blocked from the stream that flowed so furiously only minutes ago. ............  Finally, I picked a tune, came up with a title collage that took almost as much time as the damn post. ....... 

"Child in Time" - Deep Purple - First released 1970 - AI enhanced music video - Recently released or close to it.

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Sometimes Doing Nothing is Right

Well-meaning gardeners often harm native bees during late-winter cleanup. These six common habits destroy the pollinators you want to protect:
  • Cutting stems too early removes mason and leafcutter bee larvae still developing inside.
  • Raking bare soil destroys mining bee tunnels and crushes dormant ground-nesters.
  • Clearing leaf litter exposes bumblebee queens to cold snaps before they're ready.
  • Tilling beds in early spring kills larvae that haven't emerged from soil chambers.
  • Removing dead wood eliminates shelter for cavity-nesting bees that wake last.
  • Spreading mulch everywhere buries ground-nester exit holes and traps emerging bees.
The urge to tidy up is strong. But dormant bees need your patience more than your effort. 

These common sense ideas help the natural order of a yard and its tinier inhabitants. They are the perfect excuse to skip Spring Clean Up, or at least put it off to "Manana". I have been doing it every year for well over 50 years. If your significant other is not a heartless, image is everything, nothing is more important kinda of mate, then use this ploy to justify laying on the couch, trolling your favorite political site, or just contemplating your navel. When they catch you with the remote in one hand and the other in an extra large jar of Cheetos, just say:

"Gee, dear darling spouse, I am only skipping yardwork today because of the little critters, the small tiny beasties who don't have a voice. They need lookin after too."

Then look at her/him/them with a sad puppy face gaze and maybe raise an eyebrow to emphasis how much more important the creatures we take for granted are than having a "Better Homes and Gardern" estate.

OR - You can just stop the idiotic destruction of the ecosystem that wraps around the place you call your home and find something else to do like doing nothing. ........ Initially doing nothing in the Fall or the Spring might just be the best avenue. Your immediate environment will be the benificiary as well as the larger ecosystem in the neighborhood, county, state,.... See where I'm going here?

Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................

This Spring Time heads up is from  "Gardening Success Tips" Facebook page
The Page has all kinds of tips for gardening.
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I was sure I would have a problem hooking up the notion of a garden with the Blues. Google proved me wrong. There were more than a few choices. I picked Mack Arnold & the Plate Full of Blues performing "The Garden Song". Nothing fancy, just a basiic in your face Blues number. Enjoy.

Friday, January 30, 2026

Women and Men ~ Boys and Girls

As much complaining, grouching and bad mouthing our two genders waste on each other, one might get the impression that women and men often think they would be better off without the other. The only thing they tend to agree on some of the time is in bed, mutually hip slapping in order to keep the species chock full of participants. And since there are so many humans crammed onto this planet, one could also conclude, the two sexes get along much better than they like to let on.

Even with many exceptions of notable murderous and devious events, men and women have been putting up with each other forever. Their connections run deeper than procreation and survival in general.. In order to survive in the best possible way, they found grouping together was smarter than not. Each gender developed a role that contributed to the group; hunter or gatherer, fabricator or couch potato with a beer in their hand. Humans found that for every role, another role was needed to support or counter the stupidity the other role was using. 

And what happened then? The two of us began to take small pleasures in each other's company. Connections not based on survival found their way into our brain's societal DNA. Eventually, many of us found contentment sharing small agreeable gestures. Tolerance evolved into acceptance; or maybe call it, resignation with a smile, a smirk, a corner or two of our lips lifted.

In my mind, a world with only one sex would be one of the many Hells I often conjure up. Whether or not women think they can roll alone, I need women in my life and really, they need men in theirs.  After all, who else would they have to laugh at; themselves? That would surely be their own Hell.

And men who think their gender can exist solo. They just fool themselves. Besides the obvious biological hurdle, our gender is just not that smart. We wouldn't be around long enough to create our own Hell.

Free Will and the Ladies are what make my world go 'round. ..........................

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I had the song for this post picked out by the second paragraph. A song about tolerance mixed with love. Here is John Prine and Iris DeMent with "In Spite of Ourselves". Yeah, John was a great  lyricist for sure. 

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Puttering

I wrote the title of this post on October 9th, 2025. I will often start with just a title and maybe or maybe not a vague idea of what I might want to write about. Start with one word and hopefully it will begin the flow.

Seems what I wanted to say on October 9th of last year was so vague, by the time I decided to to put pen to paper as it were, well, the notion was no longer vague, it was gone. Only the title remained of a draft that never got off the ground.

This morning I thought I needed some maintenance time to clean out numerous posts I started but never finished. I was determined to be brutal and remove them without emotion. After all, they are only words I never respected enough to finish the thoughts they started. Cut em out, delete them, toss them to the wind.

I came to this empty post with the title as the only clue of what I might have had on my mind that October day of last year........ "Puttering"? Just what had I had in mind, I wondered.

I didn't wonder long. As my goal was to be brutal with my deletions of unfinished posts; the rule being finish the post or shit can it. I poured another cup of coffee, contemplated my navel a moment or two longer. I decided to do what I thought the title wanted me to do.

I assumed I meant a post about puttering in the real world; maybe wax poetic about finding little chores to finish around the house or yard. Or finally take action on some Mad Max idea I came up with while baked. Then I thought:

"You know what, I can putter with words too."

When I finished that revelation and let it sink in, I realized that my blog is really just a puttering receptacle. The over 2 million words I have written in the past 21 years are nothing but the result of the puttering I wrote to soothe my mind and help maintain my healthy ego. Just imagine the horror of not purging those 2 million words. I am sure my brain would have exploded 10 years ago. "Mind Puttering" may have just saved my life.

Here we have another result of my word puttering; a finished post that says nothing meaningful, wastes some time and uses up a chunk of bytes that may help clutter the Internet ether for forever and a day. In other words, I have written the usual nonsense and am now happy as if I had a brain. After all, it's about the words in the end, not the point they try to make; Right?

Mission Accomplished .......................................

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Since I was such a slacker on this post, I will do my best to find some song that is just the opposite. A tune that is meaningful in some way. A song that stirs some emotions and tugs at either the Heart or the Funny Bone. Maybe a song that will surprise not only the 20 or so souls who read my drivel, but surprise me also. 

Or, since I seem to be sporting a lazy streak this morning, maybe I'll pick a song by some random means that is silly and makes no sense. Hmm .............. Let's get it on.

I have been waiting for an opportunity to use one of these songs with a post. The problem was, neither was a good fit in any of the usual posts I come up with. This post however, with no point to speak of, is perfect for one of them. Without any more fanfare, please enjoy (or not), "Detachable Penis", by King Missle. It was either this song or Denis Leary's, "I'm an Asshole". It was a toss up at first, so I flipped a virtual coin in the virtual world I live in sometimes. The Asshole song lost.

Thursday, February 27, 2025

Reflecting Pool

 There are some of us who have always stood up for others and some of us who have only stood up for ourselves.

Then there's the rest of us, never really sure which way to go

And that's just sad

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This is the variation of a thought that came to me for a comment on someone's Facebook post. I have expanded it to include myself. I would love to claim the high ground of standing up for others, but well, I have failed from time to time to be that guy. I can also remember a time when selfish interests ruled and I knew I should have been more considerate.

And now, after so many years of inconsistent support for those who needed it, I have begun to speak out more, donate more, and most important, try to recognize what personal actions I can change that would benefit others without being judgmental or attaching any debt to my help. 

I know now that help saturated in pity will often make the situation worse. People generally do not want to be pitied. They can become resentful. They may need help. They may even want it. But when it is waved in their face, often it causes them to draw back from it.

It would be easy for me to sit back at 72 years old and not give a shit about anything or anyone. It would be a logical step after becoming a card carrying Old Fart. But It makes less sense now to not care than it did when I was in the middle of the busy productive part of my life.

Whether it is a good idea or not, I have been doing a lot of reflecting these days. I have the time now to reflect on years past; the triumphs, the failures, the moments of pleasure and pain.  And though it has been my position that I have no regrets, well, that is probably just some Bullshit I tried to fool myself with.

I used to passively deny regrets with, "There are things I would have done differently." Who am I fooling? That means regret; no getting around it. Thankfully, any regrets I harbor are shoved aside by the overwhelming wave of the things I did that I did not regret. I am pretty much happy with my performance as a human so far. Now, I want to see if I can clean up the rough edges I developed as I wore myself out making it paycheck to paycheck over the years.

I need to stop now. The Reflecting Pool is beginning to ripple. Besides, Maggie needs to go out to pee.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................................

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I spent more time finding a tune for this post than I usually spend I guess. Or I just became frustrated and impatient sooner than usual. Regardless, I chose a Nickelback tune, "When We Stand Together" for the music to listen to when reading this post. Hope you like it. I did.

Sunday, February 09, 2025

Surviving the No Write Zone

If I want to write more often, I need to find a solution when nothing to write about comes to mind ...... my mind can become a crippled blank and no amount of doob, alcohol, or other stimulants will bring me out of my funk.

It it pisses me off that when neither pen, paper, nor computer are nearby, I can think of a hundreds topics as I move through my day. Then I sit down determined to write, I stare at the blank screen, which I guess is akin to contemplating one's navel, sitting pool side in a lounge chair. A mushy void develops between the ears and numbness clogs the synapses.

The other time I think of topics is in the middle of writing the topic I came to write at the moment. I used to shine them on. I would often remember them, but only after I had left the computer and was doing something else.

Now when I sit down to write, if another topic or twist on the topic comes to mind, I write a few hints on another page to re-inspire me when nothing seems all I have. I just started the new page a week ago and there are already 20 -30 prompts saved to it. I may never expand on all of them, but it's nice to know they are there when I find myself stranded in the black hole I call, the "No Write Zone".

Later .............................

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I chose Soundgarden's " Black Hole Sun", not because its lyrics are relevant, but because they are not. When I am stuck reving my engines and going nowhere, nothing I think of seems relevant. I often feel I have fallen into an empty black hole.

Enjoy.